Midnight Run - One DirectionNarry
by FoolInLove
Summary: AU where Louis is a little bit of a whore and Harry feels sorry for one of his booty calls and hates Nick Grimshaw because his hair clogs up the bath plug. One Direction fanfiction with Narry as pairing.


With heavy eyes and tired legs, the brunette shoved open the front door to the flat. Not exactly feeling elated at seeing the mess that had been made in the living area, but relieved nonetheless.

His jacket was thrown onto the back of the sofa, and shoes kicked off as he plodded into the living room, where he let his lean, fatigued body fall onto the lumpy sofa with a dull thump.

He was home after a long night of hauling and lifting at work, and wanted nothing more then to relax after his long night. Knowing that Louis–his flatmate, best friend and all round lunatic– wouldn't be home for at least another couple of hours, he could unwind.

But no such luck.

"If you leave, it's OVER!"

Rolling his eyes, he prayed to God that he wouldn't have to endure another of Louis and Nick's lovers tiffs. He couldn't stand the yelling and the moping about that would surely come afterwards if Nick really did give Louis the boot. Though, deep down, everyone knew that definitely wouldn't happen because Nick was so in love with Louis and all his flaws.

He didn't really care all the much for Nick, the brunette thought. Sure, he was fun and made Louis happy, but there was always too much sarcasm behind a comment, or a little too much hairspray in that giant quiff of his. Whatever it was that he didn't particularly gel to when it came to Nick, would be kept behind sealed lips. Upsetting Louis was quite possibly the worst thing in the world in the curly-headed males eyes.

The brunette let his heavy head fall to the side as his spritely mate came bounding through the door of his bedroom, slamming the door shut after him and pulling a shirt over his head.

"Hazza! Harry! Hazmiester!" Louis beamed, still struggling with his T-shirt as he now began to fumble with his shoes. "What's up, my man?"

The brunette rolled his eyes, letting them fall closed for a split second before sighing.

"What have you done?" Harry asked slowly.

Louis's blue eyes dulled for a second, his mouth pulling down in a sad expression. "I can't even greet you without you thinking I've done something?"

"You're never this–" Emerald eyes wondered over to Louis and watched him pant and grin before him. "–_excitable_ unless you're up to something."

Louis scoffed, pulling Harry's jacket that he had thrown onto the couch over his shoulders and grabbed his car-keys and wallet from the side.

"I'm borrowing your coat, you grumpy bastard. I'm going to meet Nick. See ya."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? Nick? I thought-"

"Bye Harry" Louis called out, slamming the door to the flat before the brunette could get in another word.

Seemingly tuned in to the situation around him now, Harry noticed that the hoodie, t-shirt and pair of Supra's strewn around the floor of the living room didn't belong to neither him nor Louis, and definitely not to Hipster Nick.

He sat, staring at them for what seemed an eternity, before the familiar squeak of Louis's bedroom door sounded, alarming him. Turning quickly in his seat, he stared at the doorway and who stood in it.

"Oh. I–" The blonde stood awkwardly, resembling a rabbit caught in headlights when his shining blue eyes locked with Harry's green ones. "–I didn't know anyone was here. I'm sorry."

Harry noticed in all of five seconds that he was topless, blonde hair a ruffled mess, face red, and absolutely _gorgeous_. Pink, swollen lips that tugged down at the sides stood out from his pale skin, and Harry could only imagine what he would look like if he smiled.

Clearing his throat and eventually ripping his eyes away from the skinny blonde, Harry shook his head. "No, it's fine. Don't mind me." He forced a slight laugh, trying so hard to lighten the atmosphere that seemed to have fallen between them.

"I'm just grabbing my things, then I'll be out'ya hair." He said quietly, in a low, melodic Irish accent that immediately plucked at Harry's skin, coating his bare arms in a dusting of goosebumps.

"Sure." The brunette replied, sitting back in his seat, trying to appear as relaxed as he could.

He watched as the boy moved past the coffee table in the middle of the room, pushing empty cans and cartons around as he stomped his feet into his white sneakers.

"Uh, are you looking for something?" Harry asked, watching as the blondes brow furrowed deeper as he stopped, his fingers touching his neck and chest as if something was there previously.

"No." He breathed deeply. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

The blonde snatched up his grey t-shirt from the floor, shaking it out and turning it the right way around, and once again, Harry's attention was stolen by him. The way his fingers grasped at the fabric as he shook it, and the contours of his muscles in his long arms as his fuse became shorter and shorter. Harry decided to at least try and get some answers out of him.

"So." He began, sitting forward in his seat, catching the blonde off-guard with his wide smile and gentle eyes. "I'm Harry." He extended his hand out to the frowning blonde, his long fingers extended out to him, hoping he'd accept the introduction.

Sighing, the Irishman relaxed his forehead and dropped his tense shoulders, reaching out with a pale hand and touching his palm with Harrys in a gentle, but firm handshake.

"Niall."

"How'd you know Louis?" Harry asked as carefully as he could.

The look on the blondes face told Harry he really didn't want to talk about it, but nonetheless, he opened his mouth to speak.

"We're uh–" He took in a deep breath. "I don't really know what we are, if I'm honest."

Harry nodded, watching again as Niall struggled with the shirt being pulled over his head roughly.

It never really occurred to Harry that he was watching a complete stranger dress in front of him, until he found himself being snapped out of his observations by the blonde clearing his throat and shuffling from one foot to the other before him.

"I'm leaving now so uh, it was good to meet you, I guess." and with that Niall was gone, leaving only the sound of the front door being slammed reverberating around the empty room.

Now, Harry wasn't exactly the brightest spark when it came to relationships, girls, boys and most awful of all, _feelings_, but he had a pretty good idea what was unfolding before him. A love triangle between Louis, Hipster Nick and of course, Niall that was bound to end in nothing but tears and a screaming tantrum, probably from Louis.

Every single thing about this situation told Harry to not get involved, leave them sort it out and just keep away but the look in Niall's eyes had hit Harry square in the chest and ever being the gentleman, he just had to try.

Brushing a few stray curls out of his eyes, Harry dug around in his jeans pocket and fished out his phone, dialling the first number that came to mind when he needed someone to ask for advice. He held the device to his ear and stood, pacing around the room until finally, someone on the other end answered in a drawn out drawl.

"'lo?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Can it wait? Perrie's making fried chicken."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, Zayn. It can't."

There was a long sigh on the other end of the call and some slight rustling, indicating movement. "Fine. I'll be right over but I'm not talking to you until I get something to eat."

And then the line went dead.

Harry was in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring some concoction that resembled stir fry when the front door opened. Harry peered up expecting Louis, but was relieved when it was Zayn. Relieved, but also confused.

"How did you get in?" Harry asked, dropping the wooden spatula in his hand onto the counter and walking to meet him in the hall.

Zayn shrugged his thin shoulders and wiggled out of his leather jacket. "Louis gave me a key when you were on holiday. He said it was for emergencies and by emergencies, he meant me bringing him Chinese food at 3 in the morning."

Harry, confused, nodded his head nonetheless and returned back to the kitchen with Zayn in tow.

"So, what was so important that I had to blow off fried chicken and well, a blow job?"

Harry frowned at his dark eyed friend as he hoisted himself onto the countertop and began eating Harry's carelessly made stir fry straight from the pan.

"Louis had another boy round today." Harry said slowly, eyeing Zayn as he shovelled mouthful after mouthful of noodles and peppers into his mouth.

Zayn peered down at Harry with a slight frown. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Some blonde guy called Niall. You know him?"

Zayn thought for a second, looking as effortless as always as he thoughtfully twirled some noodles around the fork he was holding, looking like something straight out of a Calvin Klein commercial. "Yeah I know him. He works with us down at the recording studio. He's new, started last week. Nice guy."

Harry rubbed at his forehead with two long fingers, and let out an aspirated sigh.

Zayn stopped, dropped the now half empty pan back onto the hob and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why does it matter, Harry? You can't stand Nick and-"

"It's not that I can't stand him. It's just-"

"Well, put it this way, you're never going to do each others hair, are you?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Zayn's choice of words then shook his head. "No, I guess not but-"

"Why is it such a big deal? You don't even know the guy and since when did you ever give two fucks about what Louis gets up to regarding men? Look, if you want my advice. Stay out of it. That's what I do. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. Nick might finally be out of the picture and you don't have to clean his hair out of the bath plug after he stays over." Zayn grinned.

"What is with you and hair today?"

Zayn gave Harry one long, slow blink with his dark lashes. "You have to admit he's got good hair."

"Eh, I suppose."

Zayn laughed, jumping down off the counter and clapping a hand onto Harry's shoulder. That was as far as Zayn went in the comforting zone but either way, Harry was grateful. "Just forget about it, Harry. Really, it's for the best."

Harry nodded, giving into Zayn's hypnotic, caramel voice and dropped his shoulders, relaxing.

"Right, now that's cleared up, I'm off home. There might still be a chance I can get my fried chicken." The smile on his face told Harry that's not really what he had in mind when he got home. Not. At. All.

"See ya later." Harry called out after his tall, dark friend as he left the flat.

A few hours later when the kitchen, bedrooms and bathroom had been cleaned, Harry finally sat down in the living room. When he was stressed, he cleaned. He cleaned everything he could find from top to bottom and it normally worked a treat in making him feel better but tonight, it just wasn't helping.

He was just about to get up and give the oven a deep clean, when Louis returned home. It only took him around 10 seconds, a glance around the room and a few sniffs later for him to eye Harry warily.

"Okay. What's wrong?" Louis asked, blowing into the room with a sway of his hips, brushing his fringe from his eyes and sitting down opposite Harry.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry tried. He couldn't sound convincing even if he tried. He was a terrible liar and everyone knew it. Especially Louis.

"I could smell bleach from down the hall. Something's up. Tell me."

Harry was sticking to his story. "I don't know what you mean. I'm fine." Lie. Complete lie.

Louis rolled his eyes, jumped up from his seat and strutted over to the mantlepiece over their crappy fireplace and ran his finger along the underside, holding it up to Harry was wide, glaring eyes.

"Not a speck of dust in sight, Styles! What is going on? Tell me or I'll leak your naked photos."

Wild eyed, Harry stared at Louis. "You haven't got naked pictures of me!"

"That's what you think, but I've got a memory card and that fateful night last June that says otherwise." Louis grinned, looking like the sun was shining out of his ass and Harry had the uncontrollable urge to whine.

"Fine. I'll tell you. Just.. Get rid of those damn pictures."

"No chance. So, what's up?" Louis asked again, taking his seat and folding his arms over his lean chest, blue eyes watching Harry as he shuffled around in his seat. Growing impatient with Harry's lack of vocabulary, Louis growled. "Spit it out!"

Frowning, Harry spoke. "What was Niall doing here this morning?"

For a split second, Louis looked panicked, worried and a like grey in the face, before he pulled it together, and composed a curious smile. "You're on first name terms with my bootycall, now?"

Harry's heart kicked up a notch. He wasn't even going to deny it. "And Nick?"

"What're you? My mother? Come on, Harry! Do you not remember that time I covered for you when you were with Caroline?"

Harry drew in a breath, trying to calm the bubbling anger form in his stomach. Louis knew better then anyone that Caroline was, and always would be a sensitive subject for Harry and they both made a promise not to talk about it. That 'cover' was the reason they split and the reason Harry would never, ever be greedy with women again. It just wasn't worth the heartache.

"Low blow, Lou. Fuck you." Harry said, lowly, staring at Louis from under his brow. He could feel his face heating up and Louis could see it, too.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm a prick." Louis instantly regretted saying the words, and Harry knew it.

Calming now, Harry nodded.

"I know what I'm doing and I appreciate you being worried and all, but-"

"People are gonna get hurt. I'm telling you." Harry said quickly, giving Louis his serious look. The one he only brought out when he get _that_ feeling. The one in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't ignore.

"Don't worry about it." Louis smiled gently, and Harry almost believed him. "Let me worry about it, Okay?"

Unwillingly, Harry nodded, looking away from Louis and down at his fingers.

"Okay. Now, I'm going to shower and then we can watch a movie or something, yeah?"

Harry looked up at Louis as he moved out of the room. With a small smile, he nodded again. "Yeah, sounds good."

"Great." Louis beamed, a spring in his step as he left the room.

Harry blindly dug around down the back of his seat, searching for the TV remote to find a film for him and Louis to watch when his fingers instead grasped something cool and light. Pulling it out from the back of the sofa, he inspected what he had found. A small, clover charm attached to a black cord and then he realised. It was Niall's. It was what he had been looking for before he'd left. It made sense, the whole Irish thing and all.

Harry pushed the small object into his pocket for safe keeping and made a mental note to give it back to Niall, that was, if he ever saw him again. Normally he wouldn't care, he wouldn't exactly be bothered if he never saw someone he'd met once again but there was something different about this.

Harry found himself actually _wanting_ to see Niall again.


End file.
